


Ink Smudges and Potion Stains (are not that different)

by VyKa21



Series: Hello, Father [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU from OotP onwards, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Hermione Granger, BAMF Severus Snape, Braids, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, The Golden Trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VyKa21/pseuds/VyKa21
Summary: A look into the lives of the 'new' father-son duo : one Harry Potter(....right.) and one Severus Snape.Sequel to Colouring Between the Lines of Fate
Series: Hello, Father [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872007
Comments: 22
Kudos: 226





	Ink Smudges and Potion Stains (are not that different)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PricklyCactus9922](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PricklyCactus9922/gifts).



> A/n :-
> 
> Just.... *flaps hand*
> 
> I thought of braiding, and I thought of Snape's long-ish hair. This happened.
> 
> You're... welcome?

Ink Smudges and Potion Stains (are not that different)

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Harry Potter threw down his quill with a frustrated yell, startling the other students, Madam Pince and even himself.  
Ducking the Librarian’s glare with an apologetic smile, he picked up his the parchment with not-enough-inches of writing, put back two reference books, and cast a non-verbal Evanesco on the dozen or so crumpled balls of parchment as he stomped out of the library.

See, just because he found out over the summer that he was Professor Snape’s son, doesn’t mean he would miraculously start grasping Potions. He still had a solid four academic years’ worth of Potions knowledge messily crammed into his brain for the sake of his exams, and he’d taken crash lessons from Hermione, like most of the unashamed Gryffindors in the same year. But he had OWLs this year, and Professor McGonagall had made it clear that the Aurors would not accept applicants without at least an Exceeds Expectations on their Potions. Hermione with stressed out teachers equalled an even more stressed Hermione, and Harry truthfully didn’t want to add to it. (Okay, maybe he was a teensy bit terrified of her when she was in that mood. No shame there.)

And then there was _Umbridge._ He’d felt a strong urge to choke her when she’d insulted Hagrid, and almost whipped out his wand when she was whinging at Professor Snape in Potions. He was almost not sorry that Ron got a whack on his head for his snickering. _Almost._

Since DADA was obviously now a sham of a class, he decided that he might as well focus on fixing his weaker subjects, namely Potions. So he went into the kitchens and got a snack so he wouldn’t be hungry in case he missed dinner, grabbed his Invisibility cloak and made his way towards the dungeons. He’d not really had an opportunity to speak to Professor Snape, _really_ speak to him, ever since Hogwarts opened up after the summer vacations, and decided that advice on Potions was as good an excuse as any. 

The dungeons were chilly as ever, the heat outside not having a major effect on the stone surrounded by the Hogwarts Lake water. Heading to the senior Potions’ classroom was easy, but standing outside the door, Harry cussed at himself for not checking the Marauders’ Map beforehand. It was evening yes, but what if the Professor wasn’t in class? The door next to him suddenly opened and he quickly sprang out of the way, covering his nose and mouth to muffle any excessive noise. 

“Good night, Professor.”

“Likewise, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco Malfoy sauntered off with a bundle of scrolls in his hand, for once not looking like someone stuck a pole through him, the prefect badge on his chest gleaming in the low lighting. Harry took an extra moment to ponder over the sight of Draco Malfoy, Git Extraordinaire, taking his prefect duties seriously, before hurriedly peeping through the still ajar classroom door.

Professor Snape sat on his usual chair, which was itself an unusual sight considering he never really sat down during classes, always looming over everyone to make sure no one blew something up, much to the chagrin of students like Seamus Finnegan.  
The cauldrons had been put away, and it seemed the last of the assignments were being graded, if the incessant crossing and circling of red quill scratches were any indication.

Taking a deep breath, he did another quick check down the passageway, before stowing away his cloak and knocking on the doorframe.

Severus Snape looked up, the trademark disdainful expression pinned to his face faltering when he saw the nervous boy at the entrance to his classroom.  
“Come in.”

As Harry made his way to the table, Severus put aside his grading and cast an intense combination of locking and privacy charms at the door. 

“I apologize for disturbing you, Professor...” Harry started talking as he fixed his gaze on to the supplies cabinet, just to create noise and prevent any silent awkwardness.

“No need for that... Harry.”

Harry whipped his gaze at him, surprise making him gape for a second or three before he closed his mouth to swallow and let out a soft, “Alright, ...Father.”

Harry could swear Snape just _melted_ at that.

“I needed your advice on a few things,” Harry said as Severus conjured a soft armchair for him, which was a surprising shade of Gryffindor red.

_He’s trying to be considerate._

“I’ll do my best to help,” Severus responded evenly, the edge of his mouth quirking up at Harry’s wand flicking the colour to a dark, almost-black shade of green.

“You’re the only one who can at this point,” Harry said wryly as he proceeded to explain his predicament in Potions, even showing him the list of names of books he’d tried and was planning to try. Severus heard him out patiently, nodding here or there, and taking up a quill midway to cross out almost all but two names on the list.

“Finish these two first; they will help you do a quick revision of first and second year content. This,” He pulled out a leather-bound book from the drawer in his table. “- is Leo Pouraber’s Journal for Juniors. It will cover third and fourth years’ work. Focus on the potions which require different brewing time periods – that is the basis for Potions this year.”

Then he got up to enter the larger supply room at the back of the class, leaving Harry to flip through the book. He returned with a thin booklet in hand. “This is a manual for practicals; it’s quite basic and you should have these on your tips as soon as possible, read the continuation of the Pouraber series in the Library, the next part will help with fifth year concepts.” He sat back down next to a wide-eyed Harry, seemingly awe-struck at the unexpected level of enthusiasm. 

“Bring any major doubts to me. If you wish to merely share conjectures, I can welcome them only outside of school. Should you feel the need to do so here with your peers, Ms. Granger should be... adequate company in that regard. Any questions?” Severus raised his eyebrows, only to get a shy shake of the head. “Thank you, Father.”

They moved to discuss other things as Severus called a house-elf for some warm lemonade and butter biscuits.  
Harry told him about school so far, the Daily Prophet-fuelled distrust from his housemates, Quidditch, his new friendship with a whimsical little Ravenclaw, and how Hermione was urging him to _teach DADA_.

Severus just said, “Your mother was the most popular tutor for Transfiguration in Hogwarts during her last three years here. Even Professor McGonagall sent some hopeless stragglers her way and expected wonders.”  
(He basically sold the idea to Harry in a way Hermione could only dream of doing.)

Severus told him about his teaching schedule (in case he ever wanted to visit him again), his latest bet with Professor Sinistra on the number of students they could flunk in their respective subjects, and general updates about how the Order of the Phoenix was dealing with the detainment of Albus Dumbledore.

“He has established himself too well in the Wizarding World; to challenge it would be futile, to not utilize that to our benefit a bigger folly.”

“But he was at the opening ceremony at the start of term – does that mean he is still the Headmaster?” Harry questioned him, a little worried about the state of affairs at school, especially with that madwoman afoot.

“For the sake of appearances, yes. But Lupin and Auror Kingsley have jointly taken charge of the Order, and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley are tasked with the magical detainment of the former leader.” Harry bit his lip at that, and both shared a look over their glasses, eyes twinkling with mirth. 

“...What happens if Dumbledore does not retain control, or the appearance of having it, over Hogwarts?” Harry asked after a pause.

Severus swirled his lemonade, the liquid forming a mini whirlpool in his glass. “The Ministry already has a door to Hogwarts through the new Professor, removing Dumbledore would be handing them the key.”  
_Well, shit._

“So it’s either their control or ours,” Harry commented bitterly, the realization of that causing phantom twinges in disfigured skin on the back of his hand.

“Succinctly put, yes.”

The topic of conversation shifted again. Harry was in the middle of telling him about the trial he had when he noticed a thin tuft of his father’s hair was pinned away. He trailed off midway, unaware of it himself as he reached out in an entranced manner to trail a careful finger over the... braid? Yes, _braid_ tucked away and behind the ear underneath the curtain of hair.

“Harry?” Severus spoke up softly, but Harry startled badly enough to bump his knee into the leg of his chair, and the next thing he knows, he’s being held in Severus Snape’s arms like he were a three-year-old baby and not a strapping young lad of fifteen.

“I’M SORRY! I don’t know what came over me, I don’t usually poke people’s hair, really; I just- I don’t even know-”

“Do you want a braid too?”

There was silence that permeated the room, stunned on one end and expectant on the other.

“My hair... Father, my hair is too short.”

“At the sides, yes but not at the top.” Severus said as he directed Harry to sit on the floor next to his feet, head angled to the side  
to give him easier access. Harry realized he had never been treated like a kid before, not like this.  
It felt like a slap.

“Besides,” Severus said in a soft almost-whisper. “If Lily’s concealing charm was removed, you’d have hair like mine.”  
It felt like a secret.

Harry looked up at his father, and Severus took a moment to _reel_ at how those eyes made him feel happy and hurt at the same time.

“Give me two weeks, Father. I’ll grow out my hair.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

Severus exhaled sharply, and took a second to ruffle the fringe beneath his fingers. Then tugged lightly to get the strands in place for a little French braid, leaving the bulk still falling messily onto the glasses like they always did.

Harry sat still, letting his father braid his hair, who did so happily in a surprising show of disregard for gender constructs.  
It felt like a stupor.

“It is done,” Severus said, patting once at his shoulder warmly. Harry did not want to move, a part of him eternally dazed at seeing his sneering, smart-mouthed Potions Professor being so... _sweet._ It really struck home the fact that if he’d been mourning the loss of parents who he didn’t remember, then this man had been mourning his dead wife and the son who didn’t know he was his father.

This was new and unfamiliar and _special_ for both of them. 

Harry reached out a hand to clasp the larger, leaner ones. He looked at his father, in his thirties and looking the part too in the comfortable lighting of the Charmed lampshades. “Thank you, Father.” 

Severus gave him a small smile, taking his fingers in his own to guide them lightly over the braid on his head. “You may ask Ms. Granger to help you with this hereafter.”

“Until two weeks,” Harry grinned at him challengingly.

“Until two weeks,” Severus conceded with a half-grin of his own.  
Harry gave a little fist pump, truly looking forward to having yet another part of his parent with him at all times, when Severus’ smile dropped.

Before Harry could ask him about it, his fist had been snatched up, and _oh, he saw the scar._

“Punishment Quill?” Severus growled menacingly, causing Harry such flashbacks that he had to remind himself it wasn’t directed at him.

“Detention for calling out the Ministry’s bull-headed denial mode,” Harry replied flatly.

Harry watched as Severus Snape took a few deep breaths, muttering what sounded like a Teacher’s Oath of Duty, and took to a piece of parchment, his expression darker than the thunderclouds that heralded Dementors.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

“Good night, son. And take this to Ms. Granger; it is for her eyes _only."_

“But Father, why is thi-”

“ _Take. This. To. Ms. Granger.”_

“Yes, Father. Good night.”

They exchanged a final, quick hug, and Harry was quickly ducking under his invisibility cloak, taking care not to mess up his precious braid. 

He sneaked back quickly to Gryffindor Tower, just as the last of the students were going up to bed. Hermione and Ron were near the fireplace, talking softly with books and parchment scattered around them, pretending to wrap up homework while they waited for him. He ducked into an alcove and quickly tucked away his cloak, loving how both their eyes lit up in relief at seeing him, excitement mixing with confusion as their gazes trailed up to the braid on his head.

“Father,” was all he told them proudly and they pointedly changed their line of questioning.

“Oh and he asked me to give you this, and it’s only for you to read,” Harry said, handing an instantly alert Hermione, Ron looking like he wished to protest at that particular manner of communication.

Hermione gave it a quick glance, scrunching up a brow only to read it again, then gave a wide-eyed little blinks, jaw clenching tighter. She looked up at the two boys watching her expectantly and tossed the letter into the fire, expression ridiculously determined and grim in the face of the outraged squawks the boys gave.

“That’s between Sir and myself,” she closed the topic with an air of finality, turning to Harry with a suspiciously saccharine smile. 

“You just need to know that I have adult backing in my endeavour of making a teacher out of you.” 

Harry gulped, nodded and gave a pained smile back, admitting defeat in the face of the might of two intellectuals.

“He didn’t tell you anything about You-Know-Who?” 

“No, Ron... and that’s probably for the best.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be great to know the details of what he-”

“Do you know what is Legilimency, Ron?” Ron winced and went a bit green at that, understanding dawning on his face. 

“Right. Sorry mate,” He replied with an apologetic look.

“No problem,” Harry gave him an easy smile. 

“Wait, wait. What is Legilimency?”

Ron and Harry exchanged a look, before Harry swept a hand towards Hermione, looking at Ron as if to say ‘all yours’, and Ron gleefully tugged Hermione down on the couch next to him, revelling in the rare opportunity of knowing something Hermione didn’t. Harry shook his head, calling out his nightly farewell and heading up to his dorm, leaving them to bicker it out like they always did. 

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
You may take the necessary measures to make a teacher out of the seeker, and you can seek out the teacher to teach a lesson they decided to seek when seeking to punish true seekers of truth.  
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

“Hermione, why are you reading up on explosive charms? They’re taught in the sixth year, you can relax for a bit.”

“Oh, is that right? Thanks Angelina!”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

A week later, the part of Hogwarts their eating breakfast was witness to Professor Dolores Jane Umbridge hiccupping quill feathers every time she tried to talk, which was _often_. She was later seen running through the school with the pointed ends of the feather-less quills chasing her, refusing to be Charmed away, burnt, Banished or Vanished. 

The following week, she was interrupted mid-sentence by loud explosions, seemingly occurring in thin air. Apparently every time she was trying to praise Minister Fudge, tout the Ministry's virtues, or otherwise mention it at all.

The professors tried to help; of course they did.

They just didn’t try too _hard._

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

“Professor Snape, sir. Professor Umbridge is inaugurating the Inquisitorial Squad. We’ll receive extra credit. Should I joi-”

“Are you academically challenged, Mr Malfoy?”

“Wha- no, Sir. I am not.”

“Then perhaps mentally? I can’t imagine why a functioning school with teachers and prefects would need _student inquisitors_.”

“...Sir, she suspects suspicious activity-”

“Are you emotionally challenged, Mr. Malfoy? Do you- Do you _really_ need validation from a third person?”

“I...”

“You’re doing exceedingly well for yourself, Draco. Should you need a third input, I shall be available within the rights of being your Head of House.”

“... Thank you, Professor. I shall decline from splurging my energy in fruitless pursuits. It is... unbefitting of my status as the Malfoy Heir.”

“Excellent reasoning, Mr. Malfoy.”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

“Loosen your shoulders, Neville and bend your knees a bit more. There you go,” Harry said as he trained his wand on the boy before him. 

“Impedimenta!”

“Protego!”

“Incarcerous!”

“Protego!”

“Stupefy!”

“Protego!”

Harry ducked the rebound, whooping loudly and rushing to give Neville a hug. “You deflected three of my biggest attacks in a row! Awesome, Nev!”

The rest of the gobsmacked audience snapped out of their shock to cheer and congratulate the stunned boy, who just looked at Harry and worded ‘thank you’ at him. Harry just worded ‘you’re welcome’ at him with a smile. 

“How’d you know Harry?” Hermione asked him curiously. “How’d you know attacking Neville head-on would improve his wandwork faster?”

“I asked someone with personal experience with ‘Hopeless Dunderheads’ and was surprised to find Neville’s name not on that list, but on the one of ‘Oafs Who Can’t Calm Down’. He is quote unquote ‘clever with herbs but treats the stirring rod like a scimitar from hell’.” Hermione burst out laughing at the Muggle reference.

“And attacking calms him _how_?” Ron asked, smiling despite himself but still sceptical.

“He’s a natural,” Harry shrugged lazily, smiling in obvious pride.

Ron cackled at that, running over to a flustered Neville yelling, “Oi Longbottom, I’ve learnt how to improve your Potions.” 

Hermone shook her head at him, still giggling.

“Oh, I also know how to change your Boggart.”

That stopped Hermione’s giggles as she ran over to do damage control. “Shut up, Ron!”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Harry sat on the carpeted floor of Severus’ personal quarters, located in a hidden corner of the dungeons. It was large enough to befit the status of Head of House, but it had been decorated in cosy shades of brown and lavender.

Gentle fingers carded through the longer strands that he’d been growing out, the twin Dutch braids extending from his temples back down to curve of his cranium, his fringe and hair close to his neck left loose. He had what Parvati had called a ‘super stylish mullet’, and he frankly didn’t care for it beyond the fact that he could now wear little _braids_. 

Just like his Father.

Harry felt the pat on his shoulder signalling his freedom to move, and he got up to peep into the full length mirror in the corner of the room. He looked... good. Surprisingly so.

“Thinking of starting a new trend at Hogwarts?” Snape asked as he stood a few steps behind him, arms lax and body uncoiled from the comfort of familiarity within his room, with his _son._

“Thinking of how lovely it is to share something so... so trivial with someone so dear,” Harry quipped back, smiling widely at the way Severus’ eyebrows shot up for a second.

He turned around to give his father a quick hug, before dragging him by the hand to the little fireplace and discussing the finer points of the utility of a Mandrake root in health-restoring potions. 

Harry mindlessly noted the way their hands looked, the glare of the controlled firelight making the stains from potions and smudges of ink look nearly identical. _The light that comes from within when in the company of loved ones truly glosses over all differences._

Mandrake root, though difficult to extricate, is one of the fundamentals in the base of any health-related potion. _Beautiful relationships, though difficult to create and harder to maintain, were essential to achieve that blissful state of mind ineloquent people called happiness._

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

“Father, when do you and Hermione plan to stop... inconveniencing _Professor_ Umbridge?”

“... Is there a deadline?”

“No sir, _please_ , take your time.”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and suggestions are appreciated!
> 
> Thank you for reading~
> 
> Vy~ <3


End file.
